A Father's Love
by whytewytch
Summary: WARNING: WIP ON INDEFINITE HOLD DUE TO RL INSANITY. Kiryk is a good father, even if Celise isn't his by blood. He'll do anything to keep her safe. Anything at all. Rated PG-13 for mild violence.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Father's Love

Author: Whytewytch4

Word Count: 1,681

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Violence

Spoilers: Set after "Tracker"

A/N: Really loved Kiryk. An excellent character who I would have loved to see join the Atlantis expedition.

* * *

Kiryk dove through the gate, trying to give Celise and the others the best chance of survival by drawing the Wraith away. He had no intention of committing suicide, however. Not now. Not if what Doctor Keller had said was true and his tracking device was no longer functioning. He was going to survive and make it back to his little girl. No matter that she wasn't really his. He had come to love her as though she was and no force in the galaxy, not even the Wraith, would keep him from her.

The moment he re-materialized, he hit the button, now glowing a bright green, on the teleportation device on his left bicep. He disappeared, re-appearing on a branch on one of the large trees on the primeval world. The Wraith came through and he took down the first one with a projection gun that blasted numerous holes in its victim. The smell of blood would soon permeate the air. Kiryk moved quickly, transporting to another tree to avoid the searching Wraith, who he hoped would now be unable to track him using their tech.

Two darts buzzed through the gate and the wormhole closed. Kiryk kept his head down, stilling his body as he had trained himself to do, slowing his heartbeat and his breathing. Black against the bright blue sky, the darts buzzed back and forth, searching. A couple of passes came way to close to Kiryk for his comfort and he half expected to see a transporter beam come on and scoop him up. He remained in his hiding place though, refusing to be flushed out unless he knew they had found him.

A roar sounded in the distance, the sound coming closer as the earth trembled. The cry of a raptor also sounded and Kiryk saw the bird through the leaves as it closed on the dart, angling toward it from the side. The dart's buzz was suddenly cut short as it was knocked into its partner by the enormous flying predator. The second dart was flipped by the contact with its partner; it spun out of control before ramming into a nearby rock wall. With a high-pitched whine, the first dart crashed to the ground in a meadow behind the Stargate. A towering reptilian predator appeared a few hundred yards from the downed dart, moving forward with purpose.

The three remaining Wraith who had run after Kiryk through the gate backed slowly away toward the dialer. As the reptile stepped on the dart over and over, eventually compromising its shield and finding the hapless pilot, the other three quickly dialed the gate and ran through. The hole closed almost immediately after them; the predator only glancing up for a moment, the Wraith pilot's leg dangling from its gaping jaws. It scented the air and made its lumberous way over to the gate, where it quickly found the first Wraith Kiryk had killed.

Kiryk watched in disgust, trying not to gag as the reptile chewed on the Wraith, crunching its bones and spraying the area with more blood. He had wanted to attract a predator to take out the other Wraith. Unfortunately, his plan was not working out as he had hoped; the other three Wraith had already escaped and more predators were arriving, drawn by the scent of blood. He knew it would not be long until they scented him, too, and pressed the green button to get himself out of the area.

He landed on another enormous tree, high in the leafy branches. He would wait until morning to see if it was safe. With that thought in mind, he covered himself with some damp leaves to mask his scent and lay safely against the trunk on a wide branch.

The next morning, Kiryk jumped back to the gate area, but the predators seemed to have set up camp. He retreated to his tree again for the day, returning twice to see if the predators were gone. The animals remained and so Kiryk went back to the tree to spend another night, jumping down to pick some berries he recognized as being edible to stave off his hunger and thirst. In the end, it was nearly a week before it was safe to dial up the gate.

* * *

Kiryk hadn't dared to dial back to the planet they had come from, afraid of the possibility of more Wraith tracking his last known location. It was unlikely that they would cull the planet; even so, if the Wraith were going to, they had likely already done it. There was nothing he could do at this point to help. If the Wraith had _not _culled the planet but his tracking device was working once more, he could lead them directly to the people there. No sense walking directly into a trap or endangering those people. He decided to go to one of the planets he remembered as being a trading partner to his own world. He would get something to eat and drink quickly before moving on.

Baylar was one of his least favorite type of planets—the gate was in the middle of an open plain with no cover for hundreds of yards. Kiryk had been here once before as a runner without the teleporter and had felt exposed on the run to the tree line. He was glad of the device on his arm this trip. As soon as he was through, he teleported to the closest cover. He scouted the area thoroughly, checking for signs of recent Wraith activity. Only when he was completely satisfied that it was safe did he make his way to the village.

He knew he stood out enough on a planet like this without using the device and so he took the time to walk, double and triple-checking his surroundings as he went. He strode into the middle of town and sat where he could be seen, but also where he could see everything. He knew his presence alone would bring the leader to him. No one wanted a runner on their planet. The leader would come and nervously demand that he leave. Immediately.

Kiryk was unsurprised then, when the fat little man rolled up to him, his stride choppy from his short, quick gait. The leader was surrounded by his stooges, a group of half a dozen or so yes men there to support their leader unless things turned ugly. In the case of a confrontation, the group would trample each other to get away. Kiryk had seen their kind before on many planets, in many villages. They disgusted him, even as he understood their fear.

No one wanted a runner, a Wraith-bringer. They didn't know his tracking device was dead. _Wraith Worshipper!_ Kiryk thought, his mind dragging up the worst known expletive in the galaxy, _I__ don't even know if it's still dead_. Another good reason not to go back to the last planet he had been on or directly to Atlantis, even if he had known Atlantis' address. The more he thought about it, the more he thought it might be better to run for a bit still, just to be sure it was safe.

The leader greeted him cordially enough, asking what his business was on their planet. His voice was high-pitched, like a woman's. A very annoying woman's. Kiryk couldn't help it—he winced. He watched in tired amusement as he stood to his full height and the group backed up two steps as though they were one being, not eight.

"I'm just passing through," he responded to the leader's question.

"Then why have you not left already?" The leader peered up at him, terrified defiance stamped on his fat face.

Kiryk smiled. "What? No food or drink for a weary traveler?"

The leader scowled at him. "You are a runner."

Kiryk bowed his head once in acknowledgement. He was a big man to begin with. In the black leathers he had acquired in his first days, it was obvious that he was no mere trader. His height, the leathers, the weapons—all spoke of danger to simple farmers and traders. A part of him envied them and wanted nothing more than to find a quiet planet to raise Celise on, making his living by trading or raising crops. He knew however, that even without the weapons and leathers, he had been honed into a finely-tuned killing machine. He would never fit in among simple people. He sighed in resignation, even as his stomach rumbled. "Bring me food and water and I will leave."

"If we bring you what you ask, the Wraith will destroy us for helping you."

"And if you don't, I will stay here until they come. They will destroy you in trying to find me anyway. If you bring me food and water now, I will leave immediately. So which is it?"

The little man blanched, then waved to one of his stooges to go and fetch the items. "You will take the food with you. You do not eat here."

"Acceptable." Almost immediately the other man returned with bread and water. Kiryk took the food and broke off a piece, offering it to the leader. "You will eat. Just to be sure you have not tainted my food in an effort to curry favor with the Wraith."

The leader sniffed and took the bread, popping it into his mouth. He chewed with his mouth open, Kiryk noted with disgust, grateful when he swallowed. Kiryk handed him the water skin and the man took a healthy swig before handing it back.

"I thank you for your hospitality. Much as I would love to stay and visit your lovely planet and its friendly residents, I am afraid I must leave." Kiryk bowed low, watching the leader glare at him as he did so. When he rose, he quickly stowed the food and water, and made his way back to the gate. He would stop over at a trading planet he knew of next, to replenish his weapons, just in case.

* * *

**A/N: ****I have left this open as a possible WIP. I hope you like. There may be other chaps along the way, just not at the moment.**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: A Father's Love

Author: Whytewytch

Word Count: 955

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Violence

Spoilers: Set after "Tracker"

Summary: A peek into Kiryk's past.

* * *

Cambria was a busy trading planet. People from many different worlds traded many different things. Most of the trading was done in the open, everything above-board. Kiryk walked by stall after stall of brightly colored cloth, glinting jewelry, and lovely fresh-smelling pies. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, blowing down into the busy lanes where the trading was done. People bustled about, intent on their business—mostly, the shopping was done by wives or servants stocking the family's household. Kiryk watched a man stopped in front of one of the jewelry stalls, examining a silver ring. A sad smile touched Kiryk's lips. How he wished he were that man, buying a bit of jewelry for a loved one instead of seeking methods of dealing death.

Where Kiryk was going to be trading, business was only conducted after dark, in places that would not see any light even at midday. Weapons and tech devices stolen from the few planets that had developed that far found their way to these dark recesses. How they got there, no one asked—no one who wanted to live, anyway. There was even Wraith-tech sometimes, most likely stolen from dead bodies.

Kiryk hated these places. He hated dealing in weapons and death. On his home world, he had been a farmer, a peaceful man with a wife and a daughter, with another child on the way. He had been happy, his body sun-kissed by his labors, his life filled with love and laughter. Until the Wraith had come.

He had heard the horrible high-pitched whine of their darts, a sound he hadn't heard since his childhood. He had made his wife and daughter run for the forests where there were caves they could hide in while he stayed behind to fight at the farm. He ducked into a pub, ordering a beer and collapsing onto a seat in the darkness at the back of the room. He buried his head in his hands as he allowed the memory of that terrible day to assail him and the pain washed over him in red-hot waves. He could almost smell the sweet scent of the soap his wife had used, could almost feel the warmth of his family's bodies as they said their good-byes. Sylfa had argued with him at first, knowing—as he did—that he was sacrificing himself for them.

"_Kiryk, no! You must come with us." Sylfa's brown eyes had nearly unmanned him as she stroked her rounding belly with one hand, her other one resting protectively on Tika's dark head._

"_If I come, too, they will follow us. I will stay here and fight them. It will give you time to get away." Kiryk reached out his hand to stroke his wife's beautiful cheek, knowing it would be the last time. He dropped to a crouch and held his daughter tightly. "Go with Mommy, Tika. I will be along when I can."_

"_I love you, Daddy." Tika's voice was muffled by his shirt, her little voice trembling with fear. She sniffled once as he pushed her gently away and Kiryk felt the first tear trail down his cheek. More followed rapidly as he rose and embraced his wife. _

"_You will die, you know," Sylfa whispered in his ear._

"_I know, but you will live and that is all that matters to me," he whispered back._

_Sylfa kept her voice pitched so that Tika would not hear. "If you must die, die in the fight. Do not let them feed on you, my love. I could not bear it, to know that somewhere a Wraith carried a part of you with them."_

_Kiryk nodded and pulled away, checking the farmyard before herding them quickly toward the forest. It was not long before the Wraith found him. He fought like a madman, trying to give his wife and children the best head start he could. The Wraith played with him for a while before shooting him with a stunner. His last thought before consciousness fled was that he had failed Sylfa and that she would find his dried-up corpse on her return to the farm. _

_When he awoke, it had been on a Wraith hive ship, lying on a medical table. That was when they told him that his planet had been destroyed, every human killed, and that he would offer them entertainment now as a runner._

Kiryk raised his head and took a deep swallow of his beer, placing the mug quietly back onto the wooden table. He shook off the melancholy as he waited for night. A small smile touched his lips as he thought of Doctor Keller and her kindness despite his kidnapping of her. It was only because of her that he was alive and able to sit here waiting for darkness instead of going elsewhere and returning in the night. Because of her, Celise was alive and safe, and the Wraith could track him no more. He was a man Wraith-trained to fight, able to hide from them now, with more than enough reason to hate them.

He sipped his beer and ordered some stew; the bread and water from Baylar had done little to assuage his hunger. Dust motes danced in the light, which began to fade quickly while he ate. The temperature dropped, but he had learned long ago not to show any signs of weakness; no shivers wracked his body as the other customers began to pull on cloaks and the pub owner built up the fire. Soon, the customers would go home and he would spill into the street with them. As the residents headed toward the warmth and love of their families, he would head toward the dealers of death.


End file.
